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Updated: June 28, 2025
"Suppose you let me have a talk with Prince? I have some scientific knowledge myself about the powers of this catalyst. Prince's knowledge and mine we might be able to come to a calculation on the value of Grantline's treasure. You don't know. You are only assuming." I paused after this glib outburst. Whatever may have been in Miko's mind, I cannot say. But abruptly he stood up.
"Prince, damn you, help me with those boxes!" The frightened stewards were lifting the boxes, square metal storage chests each as long as a man, packed with food, tools, and equipment. "Here, get out of my way! All of you!" My breath came again; Anita nimbly retreated before Miko's angry rush. He dashed at the stewards. Three of them held a box.
The route up through the dome was the only feasible one now. This range mechanism of the projector was reasonably familiar, and I felt that I could operate it. The range-finder and the switch were on a ledge at one of the windows. I rushed to it. As I swung the telescope, training it down on Miko's lights, I could see the huge projector on the deck swinging similarly.
George Prince had said that he would make opportunity to disconnect the room's insulation. He had evidently done so. I picked up the interior sounds at once; my headphone vibrated with them. And with trembling fingers on the little dial between my knees as I crouched in the darkness behind the cylinder case, I synchronized. "Johnson is a fool." It was Miko's voice. "We must have the passwords."
Did he believe me? He listened quietly. He seemed not shocked at the death of his comrades. Nor yet pleased: merely imperturbable. I added with a sly, sidelong glance, "There were too many of us on the Planetara. The purser had joined us and many of the crew. And there was Miko's sister, the Setta Moa too many. The treasure divides better among less." An amused smile played on his thin gray lips.
The light from an overhead tube was on him: I saw in his hand the cylinder projector of his paralyzing ray. I plucked my heat cylinder from my belt, and fired without taking aim. My tiny heat beam flashed. I must have grazed Miko's hand. His roar of anger and pain rang out over the turmoil. He dropped his weapon; then stooped to pick it up. But Moa forestalled him. She leaped and seized it.
No more than ten or fifteen had been available for that final assault upon the camp buildings. Miko's last strategy. I think perhaps he had intended, with his few remaining men, to take the ship and make away, deserting his fellows. All on the ship, caught unhelmeted by the explosion, were dead long since. I stood listening to Snap's triumphant account.
You shall treat me like a man and give me my share of gold leaf." He had already demanded the reason for the signal from the Mare Imbrium. Miko's signal! It had not come again, though any moment I feared it. I told him that Grantline doubtless had repaired his damaged ports and sallied out to assail me in reprisal.
We could see the ship plainly above us now, a gray-black shape among the stars up beyond the shaggy, towering crater rim. The vessel came upon a level keel, hull down. Slowly circling, looking for Miko's signal, no doubt, or for possible lights from Grantline's camp. They might also be picking a landing place.
But I could flash the Earth signal now, and then we would have to make our run to escape. Then I remembered that light down by the base! I kept Anita out of sight down on the floor and went cautiously to a window. The deck was in turmoil with brigands moving about excitedly. Not because of what had happened in our tower signal room: they were unaware of that. Miko's signals were showing!
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